This Is War
by Naomii386
Summary: "And here he came again with his egoistic but at the same time simply entertaining attitude. I couldn't help but admire it. " Yet another part of my mini one-shot Minho/OC (Reader's perspective) series. Despite the title it's too, like the others, somewhat happy-lovey-dovey, somewhat humorous and also meaningless. SMUT. Two-shot because I'm too laze to wait. R&R, sweeties!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys!**

**Yes, yet another one-shot with Minho and the same OC. :) It's not finished yet but I decided to upload this one in two parts as well beacuse this way you can read a one-shot without smut, if you don't like that. So yes, this chapter doesn't contain smut yet just some sexual references!**

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><p>It was a hot, sunny day at the Glade. Most of the boys (there was around fifty of them at the moment minus the Runners who were, as usual, out in the Maze), decided to get rid of their clothes so they mostly wandered around half-naked.<p>

Shirtless boys digging and planting in the gardens, shirtless boys laying in the grass, shirtless boys hammering on top of the Homestead – shirtless boys _everywhere_.

Really, it was one of those few times when I felt the kickback of being a girl.

I was sure none of the boys would've protested against me taking my shirt off – except for Newt, who was, as my older brother, was 'disgusted' of seeing my naked skin, and Minho, who was my slightly overprotective and easily jealous boyfriend – but I got just enough lustful-teenaged-boy-look anyway.

Still, despite my self-consciousness I felt a forceful desire to get naked like a newborn when I was forced to work in the kitchen where the air was humid and it felt like a bugging caldron.

'Forced' was maybe a bit drastic of a words to use because I somewhat had a choice – it was either this or I could've helped Zart in the gardens. Full on the sun.

Thinking back I should've choose the gardens.

I pecked the hem of my loose shirt between my fingers and fluttered the fabric, causing the delightful, fresh air to caress my run-hot skin. I was leaning over a huge pot of soup, stirring it with a wooden spoon. Frypan went off to have a nap after the morning rush and after they've sliced up the veggies and the meat I've shooed away the other cooks. They had nothing to do and their gazes started to burn a hole on my back.

So I was alone if you don't count Chuck, who was sitting at one of the tables, humming and munching on a sandwich.

Poor boy has only came up a few weeks ago and ever since then he was kind of attached to me. I guess due his young age he still needed a mother figure and I was the only option as the single girl.

I didn't mind his presence – most of the times he was quiet. Like, totally quiet. It wasn't because he had nothing to say – oh, he could talk the hind leg off a donkey! – but because whenever he tried to say something, be friendly or funny, he found nothing at the other boys' but annoyance and disdain.

On Chuck's first day he was so scared he pissed his pants and the boys always made fun of him. They weren't teasing like they often did to me – they were being cruel shuck-faced klunkheads. Even Newt, who was supposed to be an adult as second-in-command, said Chuck's annoying and useless, no wonder he only became a Slopper. True, the chubby little boy wasn't good at… well, any of the other jobs. One of the Gladers even suggested he should become a food waste grinder, he has the chops. Whether by an accident or on full intention, he got hit on the head with a lath by me later that day. He spent the afternoon at the Med-Jacks.

As I watched Chuck from the corner of my eye, someone suddenly wrapped their arms around my waist. I moved by instinct and hit whoever it was on the forehead with the spoon while turning around.

"Geez, what the shuck is wrong with you, woman?" Minho hissed in pain as he rubbed the spot where I've hit him with one of his eyes closed.

"Sorry, Min, I thought you were someone else," I giggled, relieved and embarrassed at the same time, and lowered the spoon. He mumbled something about others hugging me but I decided to let it slim. Seeing as the soup was okay for now I turned away for a second to put the spoon down before turning back and letting my hands flatten against Minho's hips. He hummed in satisfaction as our bare skins made contact – he, like the others, had no shirt on – and hugged me by the waist. "So, ya have a day off, right? Whatcha' gonna do?"

Minho tilted his head to the side and smirked seductively. "I was kinda hopin' to do _you_."

I could smell Gally's moonshine on his breath. He wasn't drunk – he never got drunk – but I guessed he had just enough alcohol to feel happy and loosen up. When he had loosened up he usually got sort of clingy and grew attached to my lips and body and me, in whole. Usually, I didn't mind him (to be honest, I loved the touchy-feely Minho occasionally) but I had job to get over with.

"…Are you tryin' to flirt, Minho? You're failing miserably."

"I don't need to flirt," he shrugged. "I mean, I've got you. You're mine already."

I narrowed my eyes as I crossed my arms above my chest and leaned away.

"You've bet with Gally ya will get slapped in less than two minutes or what?" I asked, trying to sound angry but it was bloody hard since I was face-to-face with his tanned, muscled chest. It was one hell of a distraction. "_That_ you're doin' shuckin' well."

"Nope," Minho shook his head, the smirk never disappearing until I growled and tried to get out of his arms by breaking out sideway. He laughed and held me tight, easily blocking my way. A whole-hearted laughter left his lips at my attempt. "C'mon, babe! You know I'm joking. Come here, gimme a kiss."

He pouted his lips and leaned in – and that was the opportunity I took to duck under his arm and step behind him. I was standing by the counter now, where I started to mop at the washed plates with a clean cloth. "I don't have time for that."

Minho looked at me wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be turned down. "You can't possibly do this to me. I've got out of bed for ya!"

"Yeah, so ya can get back in there with me," I laughed carelessly, making Minho smirk smugly again.

"I don't stick to beds. It's fine just about anywhere."

"And here comes romance again."

"You knew what you got when you said you'll be my girlfriend!" That was true. Minho was the type of guy who pretty much just did and said what he wanted and felt like and his emotional state was basically written on his face. I sighed in defeat and shook my head. Minho's face softened as he stepped behind me. His arms embraced my upper torso, his chin rested on my right shoulder and he leant on me with all his weight. Damn, he was heavy! "You really won't love me?"

"I _do_ love you," I replied rolling my eyes. "I just don't have time to have sex with you right now."

Minho moved his head to look at the plate which I've dried at least five times already. "Yup, I see that."

I flicked him on the shoulder above mine at his sarcastic tone. "I have a lot to do! Okay, at the moment I'm waitin' for the soup to boil so I can get it off the stove but then I have to weed out the tomatoes with the Track-Hoes, the windows on the Homestead will need cleaning after the Builders are done with repairing the roof, and the cows…"

"I get it!" Minho chuckled into my neck, the vibrations tickling me in a rather pleasant way. "You have stuff to get done. Though you _promised_ yesterday you'd spend the day with me… I get it. You didn't expect Newt to put so much work on your shoulders. When I first woke up in the Glade I had no intentions to be this sexy, but hey, shit happens."

And here he came again with his egoistic but at the same time simply entertaining attitude. I couldn't help but admire it.

Speaking of admiring that was pretty much the best word to describe how I felt around him most of the time. We've known each other for more than two years now and still, boy could bloody surprise and amaze me all the time.

And was I a bit biased when I thought he was getting more and more handsome? Maybe it had something to do with age… When I first met him, he was still a boy barely over voice mutation and here he was, nearly a man, 175 pounds of smart-ass attitude and muscle. Mainly the smart-ass thing.

I must've got lost in my mind as suddenly Minho cleared his throat, shaking me out of staring.

His lips curled up in a hot-shot smirk. "Enjoying the view?"

I haven't even realized I've been staring at his exposed and desirable abs until then. "Enjoying the shit that happened."

His erupting laugh was cut short by my sudden move as I pecked his lips lightly. He seemed to be taken aback by my movement but he was soon grinning again, clearly thinking he had reached his goal. Oh, the naiveté.

"You know what?" I asked, trying to sound as sexy as I could which wasn't a lot, to be honest, but it seemed to work. Minho leaned in, my lips brushing his soft cheeks as I whispered in his ear, "I'll put you on my 'To Do' list. As things stand, I'll have time for you tomorrow."

"Shuuuuck," Minho groaned in frustration as he righted up and rolled his eyes. His non-fulfilled only seemed to grow after he laid his eyes on my bloody much satisfied grin. After a few moments of just standing there with a childishly hurt expression he squared his shoulders and licked his lips while nodding furiously. "You think you can just tease me? Okay. This is war."

With a last, challenging grin and crossing of arms he thundered out, not even asking for my opinion. I stood there for a second, stunned, before broking up in a laugh and tangling my fingers in my messy half-ponytailed hair.

"Hey..." Chuck's uncertain voice rang behind me and I turned around to face him. He was standing on the other side of the counter, fumbling with a strap of his pants, face flushed red.

"What can I help you with, little dude?" I asked with a smile, trying to encourage him further but it only seemed to make him feel even more uncomfortable with whatever he was about to say.

"I was overhearing your conversation with Minho… I wasn't stalking or eavesdropping, really! It was completely unintentional, you were just, you know, talkin' too loud. And I just… Uhm… I was thinking…"

I raised one of my eyebrows expectantly until he finally heaved out what he wanted.

"What is sex?"

My eyes went wide with shock.

_Boy, I'm shucked._

# # #

"So basically, the boy puts his penis into the girl's vagina? And_ that_ feels good?"

I could tell by Chuck's face he wasn't convinced.

"Yup," I nodded lazily, once again looking around if there was anyone coming. We were sitting on top of the wooden viewpoint-thing the Builders have built nearly three months ago. At first everyone was scared to climb the not-so-stable ladders and the seemingly woozy wooden stuff but it turned out to be a really fancy place to have a personal conversation at.

I doubt there's anything more personal than having a sex-talk.

"Gross," Chuck grimaced in pure disgust, making me shake my head with slothful smile on my lips.

"Well, it does sound kinda 'gross' if you don't have the right outlook," I explained. "Someone putting a part of them into another person is truly yucky. In my opinion simple sex without actually loving the other person might be physically satisfying – ya know, I've mentioned all the nerves getting friction with sex. But when you feel what it feels like to make love – with all the touching and kisses and caressing and kind words – ya won't want to do it with anyone else but who you love."

"This is why Minho wants it that much?" Chuck asked in a surprisingly straight-forward method. Usually I hated discussing my relationship with Minho with any of the Gladers but it was everything except for usual.

"Well, it's part of the reason, yes," I tilted my head, thinking. "It's slightly different for boys, you know. They have those shuckin' hormones messin' up their head all the time, makin' them feel actual physical pain if they don't get that kind of satisfaction coming with orgasm. Of course I can only rely on my, ehemm, personal experiences and the general knowledge the Creators let me have but I guess this applies for the most of men: they physically _need_ to get off one way or another or they'll go nuts. Girls can live without masturbating but for you, guys, it's, like, in your DNA. Girls blow off steam during periods and boys have to manage on their own."

"What's it with the periods, if you'd repeat?" I saw Chuck's face redden at the mention of masturbation. Yeah, it was kinda a sensitive topic and I was grateful I only had to talk about that for the extent of a simple sentence.

"Girls have this thing called periods. It's approximately one month long cycle – the lining of the womb thickens for the egg (that's where babies come from after fertilization), then there's a short period where girls have an exponentially higher chance to get pregnant."

"Ovulation?" Chuck cut in, the word sounding funny coming from his mouth.

I nodded in agreement. "If there was no fertilization, in two weeks, the uterine lining detached and basically that's why we, girls menstruate."

"Let me get it right," Chuck held up his hand. "Girls actually bleed from their lady-parts? They bleed out a part of their body? For a week? _Every_ _month?"_

After I nodded once more, he seemed to be too terrified to say anything.

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><p><strong>So that was it.<strong>

**Part 2 coming tomorrow! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Oi, sis', what's goin' on with both you and Minho being bitter?" Newt asked once I've departed from Chuck (agreeing periods are horrible) and went to have a nap at one of the benches. "You two have broke up or what?"

"No, of course not," I sighed heavily, throwing my exhausted body on the wood. When I've laid down I lifted up my leg so it was bent and my foot was flat against the surface, making some place for Newt who immediately sat down. "I'm tired and shocked because I just had The Talk with Chuck, and Minho's sexually frustrated because he has a day off and I have no time to, ya know, get_ him_ off."

Usually, I wouldn't say a word related to sex in front of Newt, let alone referring to doing things to Minho I don't have to get naked for. But, as I've mentioned earlier, this day wasn't one of those usual days.

"Good, I wasn't feelin' like breakin' the bloody shank's nose for breakin' your bloody heart," Newt muttered absent-mindedly before actually catching up to the conversation. "Wait, what kind of 'talk' did you have with Chuck?"

I let yet another heavy sigh escape my lips before sitting up. I looked into Newt's eyes – they were full of confusion and curiosity. "The sex talk, Newt, the sex talk. Oh, don't be like that!" I rolled my eyes when his eyes widened at my words. "Ya know ya had one, too, when you were younger!"

Newt grimaced just like Chuck did when I explained the actual penetrating part of sex to him. "Yeah, no shit, I'm sure I've had. Luckily enough, I can't remember the lovin' thing except for the knowledge I got. The only lost memory I'm grateful for."

I was about to say something about boys being pathetically childish but I decided to end the conversation with a wave of my hand.

"Where are you goin'?" Newt asked when I jolted up and started to walk away.

"I have to get back to the kitchen." Without further questions he got up and closed up to me.

Suddenly a glimpse of olive skin caught my attention. When I turned around I had to gulp really hard in order to swallow my frustrated groan.

Minho was standing about twenty foot ahead of us and he had clearly just finished working out. Of course we didn't have machines like in a gym or anything but I don't know what else should I call that Minho ran around the Glade carrying heavy stuff so he wasn't feeling like he did nothing on a break-day.

He was stretching – he pulled his elbow above and behind his head with his other hand – and I couldn't help but bit in my lips as I watched his lean and fierce and bloody desirable muscles flex and move and strain and _bloody shucking hell!_

Minho looked at me from the corner of his eyes, the angle making his oh-so-handsome face look even more attractive. Even from this far I saw a flash of boldness in his alluring almond-shaped eyes. He knew I found it mesmerizing – both the side-glance and the muscled stretching part – and he enjoyed teasing me. He grinned at me when he caught me staring, self-satisfied.

_The cheeky bastard_.

I only realized that I was staring bluntly and frowned when Newt snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. "I've lost ya, yeah?"

"No… No. No, I'm here with ya," I shook my head swiftly and forced myself to look away from Minho. I won't lie: it was hard. "You were sayin'…?"

"I wasn't bloody talkin'," he laughed unbelievingly. I let out a long, lazy breath. After a quick glance back at Minho (he was still looking at me smugly) I started walking again. Once I got my head off of the daydreams woken up by Minho's goddamn body I noticed Newt was limping even harder than he usually did.

"Are ya alright?"

Newt knitted his eyebrows together. "Sure, why wouldn't eye? It's not like we're stuck in buggin' concrete-prison…"

I ignored his remark. "Your limp…"

The way his face hardened at the word was heart-stabbing visible.

There was an unspoken arrangement between us stating we_ never_ talk about that. The limp. Newt's attempted suicide… That was the only case we've argued, like, really argued and I preferred not to even think about that. I lowered my head in shame.

"Sorry. I know we… I just… It's worse now, isn't it?"

He looked away and shrugged. "A bit. Clint said maybe it's some psychosomatic klunk goin' on upstairs," he tapped his temple with his forefinger.

We walked in silence for a few moments.

"Clint knows the word 'psychosomatic' exists?"

"Apparently."

I never would've guessed. True, for the first few weeks he didn't even talk so we thought he was mute or something. One may never know what to expect with him.

"So you're so stressed because of all the things foisted off on ya it effects ya physically by your limp?"

"Yeah, something like that. But it could've been worse. I mean, Nick died now, after two years – can you imagine how chaotic this all would be had he died _before_ establishing order?"

I shivered at the thought of the old, dark days – when we weren't a family, a society tied together by mutual respect and privities but a bunch of frightened teenagers. Nick was the one who organized all we were living in at the moment. I wasn't friends with him because we simply didn't have the same interests or the same sense of humor. Still he was a decent guy and doubtlessly a successful leader. His lack of presence was downright conspicuous but I thought Alby and Newt were doing a pretty good job navigating the Glade.

"Yup, it could've been worse," I agreed hastily, eager to find some other subject. My gaze fell on Gally. The Keepr of the Builders slept with his back to a trunk, mouth wide open as he snorted loudly. "Hey, do ya wanna bet on how many biscuits can I put in Gally's mouth?"

For the record: I was at twelve exactly and still counting when he started to wake up so we had to run away.

# # #

"It's so hot in there my sweat started sweating," the masculine voice rang up from behind me. Minho was standing in the kitchen's door, fanning himself with the flickering of his palm. Once again I was alone in the kitchen. The soup was ready to be served at dinner (it was now steaming on the stove) and I was just finishing cleaning the kitchen counter when he popped up, leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah… When did you get so hot?" I asked mockingly and fluttered my shirt while pretending to be melted away by him with a dreamy smile on my lips. "If I said I wanted to check out your ass, would you turn around and walk away?"

Minho laughed deeply and uproariously before closing the distance between our bodies with two long steps. "You've already checked my ass out. Remember? When you were with Newt? You nearly drooled."

"I didn't!" I protested weakly. It was just a matter of time for me to drool, to be honest. I knew it, he knew it.

"Well, I could agree with you but then we would both be wrong."

…and clearly he was a prick enough to point it out.

I rolled my eyes and turned around when he hugged me from behind – this time I was expecting it thus I didn't jump in surprise. Instead I just gave up the fight against my hormones and blended into his touch, my arms sneaking around his. "You're sweating like hell. Don't ya want to let me perish in my own liquids?"

"Do _you_ want me to let you perish in your own liquids?"

I turned my head with a thinking expression. "…Nope," I said finally, placing a quick peck on his jaw before turning back.

Minho, however, was not entirely satisfied with just that so he kissed my hair, my earlobe, my neck and under my jaw, chuckling lightly when I gasped at the contact.

I felt a jolt of want when he kissed that special spot on my neck and exhaled sharply. "Minho, we really shouldn't do it right here… Frypan can come in any second…"

"So what? He already knows you're mine."

I frowned at his statement huffily. "'You're mine'? This bullshit again? What are ya, a caveman? I'm no o– ah!" My retort was cut short by my own surprised shout as Minho abruptly lifted me by the waist and hung my body over his shoulder. My head moved unpleasantly up and down as he started to walk. I couldn't quite identify where he was heading to. "What the shuck are ya doin', Minho?!"

"Caveman carry prey," he said in a sing-song tone. I could imagine his Cheshire cat-like grin simply by his voice.

The 'carrying' didn't take too long – it was a matter of a few moments and I was sat atop a box. Looking around I realized we were in the pantry, hidden behind wooden and iron boxes with a pile of apples right beside me.

Minho was in front of me and stood between my legs in no time, running his fingers up and down from my knees to the middle of my thighs, a wicked smile on his lips. I didn't know if it was a play of lights in the semidarkness of the room but I swear I saw his eyes twinkle with some kind of mischief… Impishness, even.

"What d'ya have in mind?" My voice was unsure but sounded rather adventure-ready. He let one of his hands wander on the inner side of my thigh, awakening the first dull throb in my crouch.

"Enjoying my break-day. The view is rather… _Pleasing_."

The way the word 'pleasing' rolled off his tongue had a touch of promise. I swallowed hard just like when I saw him stretching – I had naughty images about him in my head since then and now they seemed to intensify with him being so close and implying such things.

I wanted to say something, anything – it was the moment I should've used for something witty or at least funny but the glimmer of his eyes (I started to guess it was real, not just my imagination) nipped any of my attempt to speak in the bud.

"Come here," he said in a soft, silky voice, grabbing my knee to urge me closer. It wasn't a command at all and still I felt like I can't resist. I didn't even want to, to be honest.

As soon as I was directly in front of him, our lower parts pressing against each other's, he smashed his lips against mine. The first kiss was slightly rough and fast – he moved against me rather firmly, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it. I moaned at the dizzy feeling. He used the chance to slide his tongue between my lips, making the second kiss much more passionate and loving. His tongue stroked mine in a confirmed yet teasing way and as he hummed into my mouth in satisfaction it sent sweet vibrations through my spine.

I wrapped one of my arms around his neck, playing with his hair as I placed my other hand on his bare chest, caressing the surprisingly smooth and soft skin right above his heart.

Once we departed due need to breath he moved his left hand to my face and stroked my cheek with his hard fingertips. Somewhere during the kiss I closed my eyes so I opened them now, looking directly into his beautiful, chocolate-colored eyes now pitch-dark with lust and licked my bottom lick temptingly.

"You're beautiful."

His voice embraced me like a steam of hot, creamy chocolate and yet I couldn't help but giggle at his sentimental statement. He was only saying things like that when he was 'drunk' like in the morning – he was even more sober than then so I found the situation strange.

"Beautiful? Oh, so _now_ you're really flirting?" I rolled my eyes and tried to sound smart which was hard as shuck considering eighty percent of my brain capacity was tossing me into an abyss of desire just because how his chest rose with every breath he took. "Seriously, what is it you want? If you're still horny and want me to-…"

"I don't want you to do anything," he cut in calmly. "Except for cooperating and easing up."

I frowned as I tried to process what he just said. It seemed to amuse him as he chuckled again and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

"I'm gonna make _you_ feel good, love."

With that and a last, quick kiss placed on my lips he went on his knees and used his hands to spread my legs even faster. He quickly got rid of my pants, loosing the belt and lifting me up as he pulled it down until it was somewhere in the corner.

"What are ya – oh! Oh…" The frown was soon replaced by closed eyes and moaning as I felt him kiss along the inside of my thigh. When he bit on the skin there I jumped slightly, not quite accustomed to this kind of sensation. You see, doesn't matter how many times I've made love with him I've never really needed him to go down on me. Usually it was because I liked it better when I got to go down on _him_ and enjoyed how I could make him a moaning mess with just a few kisses here and there.

But also there was that unpleasant feeling in my chest that I didn't know what to expect or what I should do and all in all, I was just anxious.

I still felt anxious but when I felt his hot breath reaching my core even through my underwear all of that bullshit was gone and all I could do was moaning as quietly as I could manage to do.

He took his time, nibbling and pecking all along both of my thighs before he even lifted his hand and stroked me through my panties. I whimpered at the feeling and though I couldn't see his face just his hair, I was sure he was smirking. The bloody bastard.

One of my hands grabbed at the edge of the box I was sitting on and the other went up to my mouth, covering it – we were in the pantry, for God's sake! The chance someone could've walked in on us was hanging in the air heavily, making my heart beat so fast I was afraid it will eventually drive itself into exhaustion.

Of course since there was no lock on any of the door in the Glade there were several times when other Gladers saw the two of us – during making out or being half-naked or right in the middle of action. Even Newt had done this (I guess he was the one who did it the most of the time searching for me) but that was different. Right now with Minho's head between my legs I just felt… Vulnerable. Improper. _Dirty._

Point is: I didn't want to higher the chance of someone seeing us with loud moans or shouting which I did sometimes in the heat of passion when I couldn't control myself.

"You're holding yourself back," Minho stated as he straightened himself and stroked the side of my neck with his nose, his experienced fingers circling right outside my folds. "I don't like it."

"Too bad I'm the one controlling whether I moan or not," I stroke back, making him lean up. He looked all over my face for a minute, taking in the sight of me. I guess I must've been all flushed by then, breathing heavily through my nose.

His lips crashed against mine in a rough and wet kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip again before leaning away, leaving my lips numb and swollen from his.

"Once again I can't agree with you," he whispered in a husky voice before hooking his finger on the top of my underwear, tucking in down and throwing it away. It felt really strange to be fully clothed on top while in nothing at the bottom. A flow of cold air hit my now throbbing center before Minho had dropped on his knees and yanked me so close to him I didn't only feel his hot breath but also his nose.

"Oh my – shuck, Minho!" I cried out unintentionally when he lazily licked along my wet folds, nuzzling his nose to my clit. It was something I've never felt before – it was different from my soft fingers and Minho's rough, calloused ones and it was a different kind of sensation than what I felt when he'd stroke along there with his cock right before entering me.

It was hot and soft and gentle and passionate and _oh so good_!

I tangled my fingers into his soft hair as he started to move his tongue up and down and also sideways, never loosing contact, his strong hands massaging my thighs. I felt a bliss overcome me as he darted his tongue so he pushed inside of me.

It was making me mad. _He _was making me mad.

By now I was whimpering and melting at Minho's touch and he, of course, wasn't one to let something like that slim.

"You're so sweet," he hummed right into my flesh, making me moan at the vibrations it caused in my body. "Both in taste and in your whimpers, Ms 'I'm-not-gonna-moan'."

"Just shut up," I growled impatiently and tugged at a strand of his hair. He laughed but soon went back to licking and gently nibbling at my folds.

It didn't take me too long to feel the oh-so-familiar waves of lust running through my whole being and dashing over my head. My vision went more and more blur with every move of Minho's tongue and lips. When the bastard kissed, my toes curled as I leaned my head back – I was very, very close to my climax.

My breaths came out into louder and louder moans of his name and…

…and suddenly the hot wetness of his mouth was nowhere to be found. I was practically laying flat on the box so I had to lean on my elbows to see what the hell happened.

Minho was standing right next to the door with a devilish grin on his lips.

"That should teach you not to tease me," he stated in a cheery and at the same time quizzical voice. He cracked the door open and winked at me. "Good luck!"

With that being said, he left, shutting the door behind him.

My crouch was throbbing with the heat of insufferable passion and need and that bastard had just left me like that.

_Left._

_Me._

_Just like that._

**_The bastard!_**

I let out a frustrated and loud growl-like scream before lying back hardly with a loud 'thump'.

I laid there for a few moments before a knock on the door made me jump.

"Hey, shankie, you're alright in there?" Frypan's voice made my eyes widen in shock. I quickly jumped off the box and went to search for my clothes.

"Yeah, sure! I just, uh… Kicked into one of these bloody boxes. I'll be out in no time!" I shouted back so Frypan would be able to hear me. My voice was shaky which made me furious.

Then I was more than furious when I found out Minho has taken my panties with him as a punishment or something – while I yanked myself into my pants, bouncing up and down stupidly and the fabric rubbing my aching womanhood I knew for sure.

The bloody shuckface would have to pay for this.

_This is war._

**Hey!**

**So here it is. To be honest oral is not something I'm quite familiar with so there may be some idiotic klunk there... Still, I hope you've enjoyed this silly thingy and if you did, please, make sure to let me now and leave a comment! I'm always sooo happy when I get a notification saying 'Review:' ...:)**


	3. Chapter 3

Around two hours after my encounter with Minho in the pantry I was in the Bloodhouse. It was a nice place to chill out at – I mean if you don't count the smell of manure, sweaty animals and the irony scent of blood.

In order not to seem like a creep who gets lulled by cackle and the rhythmic sound of Winston's hatchet being implied into the wood of the cutting board while slicing I pretended to bath Bark.

I liked him. He was a quiet fellow who's biggest problem was whether he should sleep on his left or on his right side.

However, my biggest problem was now to figure out some punishment for Minho for leaving me un-done – a punishment fit for the crime of not-satisfying.

Unfortunately, my mind seemed to throw a tantrum and not cooperate since I couldn't come up with anything.

I massaged the shampoo into Bark's black fur more forcefully by disappointment then I picked up the buck of water I'd brought with me and poured it down onto the poor dog who had to suffer all my outbursts. He shook the water off his fur and sighed – I swear he sighed!

Probably because he already knew I wasn't done – I had washed him off three times already. He was cleaner than Frypan's precious chopper and I guess he smelled better, too.

The only thing saving him from yet another shower and thus the danger of balding was sounds of footsteps getting closer.

"Aye, you're bathin' the dog?"

Gally's arrogant, rough voice said and soon he was standing next to where I was squatting. I let out a sigh of annoyance and scratched the spot under Bark's ear.

"No. I'm watering him to see if he becomes a dinosaur."

Gally gave a snorting sound. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor."

I was sure he quoted someone because there was no way he could've come up with something like that.

"Yeah, said the stupid who didn't understand," I mumbled after he left, probably to find Winston since he was heading that way. I liked or at least tolerate most of the people because there was no reason to hate someone you're stuck with at a cell of stone and ivy. Still, I couldn't help but want to smash him in the face with a rock. Twice.

Maybe it's hard to believe but I was a peaceful person. It's just that he was the one who hated me instantly without ever making effort to get to know me. I didn't see the logic in that so I decided to hate him, too, logical or not.

I was right about to get another bucketful of water when Gally thundered by me, not even bothering to say something else (for which I was thankful) followed by Winston. He did speak.

"Hey, (Y/N), what are you still doin' here?"

I looked up at him with a perplexed expression. "Well, Winston, if ya want me to leave you'd just had to say nicely, don't need to go all rude on me…"

"No, I mean, what'cha doin' here, the Gathering will be in a minute!"

The incomprehension has gone to complete dumbfoldedness in less than a second.

Gally.

That shuck-face didn't tell me out of hatred.

_Ooooooh, I'll definitely smash his face, then!_

_… Or not, because you're not a hormone-filled teenage boy who can't behave_, my smarter half said. I sighed. She was right – or I was right… Whatever.

I quickly got up and jogged after that slinthead of a klunk running under the name of Gally and when I caught up to him, I slowed down to match his pace in a 'just for spite' manner.

I decided to go for the moral high ground and say something not-so-thorny.

"How_ nice_ of ya to spare me the fatigue of a Gathering by not lettin' me know about it."

Okay, so maybe it wasn't so un-thorny.

"Newt asked me to muster the Keepers. You know, the ones actually doin' some shit."

I froze in place as I realized what it was all about – the same thing over and over, of course.

See, I was the Keeper of the Bricknicks. Not because of my physical skills (I don't have such thing) but because apparently I've been taught some architecture-klunk before we got here. At least I knew what forces to take in consideration before building a lintel so it won't crack under the weight of a roof.

It was more of a honorary title since the Bricknicks worked under Gally's commands I just played my part when there was something to plan or calculate. Still, I was given all the privilege of a Keeper, including going to the Gatherings and deciding on a Glader's fate.

Gally, of course, didn't like that and said I wasn't a real Keeper. He said the same thing about Blaise, the shy and quiet, lanky boy who was the Keeper of the Sloppers. Minho said being the Keeper of the Sloppers was worse than being one.

_…But I still occupy the moral high ground_; I sighed in defeat as I dragged myself along the rest of the way and stepped into the room. Everyone was there already, sitting straight in their seats except for Alby, who was standing and leaning over the table. Where Nick used to stand…

He wasn't quite happy.

"Ya finally made it there?" he asked as he laid his eyes on me.

"I didn't find a mirror to check my make-up," I answered in a slightly sarcastic way which was more sarcastic than I usually. Gally seemed to get the worse out of me. Newt thought so, I guessed, as he face-palmed. Alby just rolled his eyes and motioned to me to sit down.

My seat was right next to Minho's.

"You feelin' good?" he asked with a smile so wide I was sure it hurt. Cheeky bastard, I've repeated for what seemed like a thousandth time that day.

And then it popped into my mind, fast and unexpected like a lightning strike.

A wicked grin disguised by a polite and angelic smile made its way to my lips.

"Not as much as I will."

Minho raised an eyebrow at that, the smug expression never leaving his features, but otherwise he didn't say a word about it. The way his nerves settled, leaving him so vulnerable to my 'attack' because he thought I couldn't possibly do anything made me happy and huffy at the same time.

"Now that you've all arrived," Alby started in his rough-tough leader-voice, "maybe we should start. I've asked Newt to get this Gathering together so we can organize everything before the new Greenbean gets here. I want everything to go smooth 'n steady. The first thing is to take a stock. We haven't done one since months…"

To be honest I was finished with paying attention the moment he mentioned 'stock'. There was nothing I would need and don't have already including lady-products and as I've mentioned above, the Bricknicks worked under Gally so I had nothing to do with that.

On the other hand, I did have something else to do.

'On the other hand'… I swear there was no pun intended when I put one of my hands to my lap (the other stayed on the table and I casually propped my chin on it) and after five seconds or so I slowly sneaked it on Minho's thigh.

He gave me a quick glance but did nothing else. He also touched my thigh when we were eating with the others so it wasn't such a surprise. His face was a mask of stone as he continued to listen to Alby.

I made a lazy movement with my forefinger, drawing a circle on Minho's thigh.

Still nothing.

I moved my hand so my palm was against his inner thigh.

Finally he made a sign he felt what I was doing even if it only meant giving me a questioning side-glance and another raised eyebrow. I gave him an angelic smile and blinked at him rapidly.

My hand squeezed his thigh before slowly inching higher, drumming on the fabric of his trousers and around his crotch.

Minho raised one of his hands resting atop the table and rubbed above his lip with his forefinger. He always did that when he was annoyed – I took it as a good sign.

"…the next is the Bloodhouse. Winston, I need you to count all the…"

Alby was still talking which made the whole stroking-under-the-table thing even more… risky.

I was anxious about what I was doing and _bloody hell _'anxious' didn't even cover what I felt like when thinking about what I was about to do… So I just didn't think about it.

_As if it was that easy…_

My dilemma must've been written all over my face as I noticed Newt laying his warm brown eyes on me. He sent me an inquiring look but I just sucked in my lips and looked away.

Shuck, it was so much easier to imagine than do…

I continued to move my fingers above Minho's crotch, putting on just as much pressure so he could feel it – I wasn't sure he did.

"Stop it," he hissed in a low voice so no one heard it except for me.

Oh, so he _did_ feel it!

Of course I didn't obey; in fact it just encouraged me to move my hand further up until I could brush my fingertips over the sensitive skin right above the hem of his pants.

I saw Minho gritting his teeth from the corner of my mouth as I continued to stare at Alby, pretending to be listening.

Fear mixed with excitement rushed through my veins as I sneaked two of my fingers under the fabric and toyed with his pubic hair.

Minho quickly grabbed my wrist, holding it tightly as he looked straight into my eyes – his spellbinding chocolate-colored eyes were now pretty much dark, like, pitch-dark from lust.

"Stop it," he repeated in a hoarse voice. I didn't know whether I should be embarrassed because of what I did or proud because of what_ I_ did.

"Why do I see you two not payin' attention?" Alby's voice made me wince.

"Because you have the eyes of an eagle," Minho answered right away without batting an eyelid. Alby though about striking back but eventually he just sighed and waved, moving on with the tasks.

As Minho turned back he let go of my wrist. I didn't know if it was out of forgetfulness (I doubted this option had any potential), smug thinking I wouldn't try it again or in fact he enjoyed it.

Whichever it was, when I switched to a more straight-forward method and grabbed his crotch, Minho let out a grunt. He tried to cover it with coughing but it _was_ a grunt.

"You wanna say something, Minho?" Newt questioned, his gaze jumping back and forth between me and Minho. He knew something – the thought heated up my cheeks and I pulled back my hand for a second before putting it back. He couldn't possibly see anything – the tabletop was simply too high and thus it covered my hands.

"Yeah, I'll do the stock now, gimme the paper." I must confess that he was one hell of an emergency-excuser.

Alby raised an eyebrow at his answer. "You can do it?"

"Sure. All we need is in my head," he said while he take the offered paper and pen from Newt.

_And all you need is in my hand_, I thought somewhat cheerfully as I squeezed him once again. He may had winced but I wasn't so sure – the way the pen flew against the paper was sure.

Duh, it's hard to be hilarious when no one is listening.

Now, with both of his hands occupied, I've finally found the perfect moment to skip step two and start step three.

I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants before slipping my hand over the dark hair-triangle disappearing under his underwear. Alby's voice covered the sound of Minho's zip moving down.

Minho glanced at me but tried not to look even as I palmed him through his underwear. He inhaled sharply and the muscles of his arms tensed when I started stroking. I could feel him hardening under my touch.

Hell, it was one strange situation – I've done this and that to Minho in the past months since we've first made love and yes, sometimes we got interrupted and thus some Gladers has seen us in very intimate positions but doing it directly and on total intent was… strange. Dirty. Embarrassing, even – and surprisingly thrilling.

My toes curled in excitement as Minho's lips parted when I suddenly slipped my hand under the last of his clothing separating our skins and took his cock in my palm.

Minho shifted in his seat a bit but it was still one of the nervous-est reactions I've ever seen from him. I started stroking his impressive length, using the pre-cum leaking from the tip.

Minho closed his eyes for a second but continued writing – I guess he went from trying to prevent my actions to simply let it all slim and just leave it to me.

A proud half-smile made its way to my lips as I watched him breathe more and more heavily through his nose by every single stroke. He hummed, which could've looked like he was thinking.

His face looked so cute and soft I wanted to kiss him – the urge was so hard I actually leaned in and placed a sweet little kiss on his cheek despite all the others in the room.

It didn't go unnoticed by Gally, of course.

"Don't you wanna get a room or something?" he asked, anger vibrating in his small eyes. My hands stopped, much to Minho's displeasure.

"What's your problem now, Gally?" Newt sighed; he probably didn't see what happened.

"What's my problem?! They are making out right at the Gathering, that's my problem! See? I told you it's a klunk idea to invite her, too! She's too much of a distraction and…"

"Please, just shut the shuck up," Minho growled angrily at him. I didn't know whether the reason for his anger was the lack of the movement of my hand or the fact Gally was belittling me.

"Minho," Newt called his name on a warning basis.

"What?" the Keeper of the Runners replied with his eyebrows knitted together furiously. "I was polite. I said 'please' before 'shut the shuck up'."

Gally's face reddened as rage boiled up inside him – Minho's face was red as well but it was more due the fact I started stroking him again and his words just got caught up in his mouth.

"Okay, I guess the Gathering is over," Alby sighed tiredly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Get the hell up and go back to work. And you two," he motioned toward Minho and Gally who kept staring at each other with death-glances," don't even think about gettin' into a fight. I won't care which one started it, y'all get to spend the rest of the day in the Slammer, good that?"

"Good that." Though he agreed, Gally's gaze promised to good as he left the room with an angry growl.

Slowly all of the Keepers gone back to work until it was just Newt, Alby, Minho and me.

"Ya'll finish that?" Newt motioned toward the paper Minho was supposed to write the stock at. It was mostly empty with a few words scribbled down in an unreadable way.

"Mmm, yeah." Even Alby realized the way Minho's voice got all sensitive over a stock was not right but he didn't say a word. What could've he done? Ask Minho if he was aroused by lists in front of her girlfriend or what?

Minho's cock twitched in my hand and I knew he was close – and the time has come.

The next to stand up was me – I pulled my hand out of Minho's pants and fitted my shirt. Minho looked up at me with such wide eyes they weren't even almond-shaped anymore.

"Where are ya going?"

"Out," I answered simply before leaning over him, planting a quick peck on his lips. I looked in his eyes with mischief and whispered so none of the other boys could hear me: "That should teach you not to tease me."

His face fell. He realized what I was doing the moment I've quoted him and he just became the textbook example of spoof.

"Good luck!" With that last, loud dagger-thrust I walked out of the door.

What I just did wasn't easy – not only for Minho but for me, neither. Anxiety, embarrassment and the weight of conscience on my shoulder was things making the implementation of my counterattack hard.

But I did it.

I came over my fears and left Minho agape and turned on and unsatisfied like a boss.

I knew that after he somehow took care of himself he'd come and crush it on me but…

This was war, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so sorry it sucks! *cries really hard* I've tried my best and in my mind it was all good and nice and then I wrote it down and it was messy… I'll rewrite it one day, I guess : Anyway, I hope it wasn't such a big disappointment for you, guys!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey!**

**So here it is, the last part of this mini-series! Once again I'm not entirely satisfied with the outcome because it was so much better inside my head but whatever. **

**As I said, this is the last part. I won't give up on these two - I'll start writing a fanfiction based on this relationship, following the books' storyline. If an idea for a one-shot like these shall pop up inside my head I won't think twice to write it down but if you have any idea regarding what I should write about, feel free to ask me! Oh, how I love writing these~**

**Warning: smut, language, and also, this is unbeta'd.**

Guys should realize girls have the last word in an argument_. Always_. Whatever they say or do afterwards is the beginning of another argument.

Minho, however, didn't know that.

After I left him in a highly nasty situation I expected some kind of revenge from him. I was careful not to stay alone anywhere. Not that I was afraid of him – hell, no! But I wasn't going to let him have his fun right away. My senses were extra-sensitive and all in all, I was just highly strung, picking up on every noise and unknown shadow but it was never Minho.

At first I thought he was throwing a tantrum again, you know, giving me the silent treatment. Then the thought he may be angry at me and just didn't want to see or talk to me hit me like a rain on track. It made me feel kinda anxious and guilty. Maybe I had gone too far…

But then again, he was the one starting it so whatever.

I brushed it off and continued my day. If he had wanted to speak to me he would've need to come to me. He can huff all he wants.

I spent the first part of the afternoon cleaning the windows of the Homestead and then the rest of my day was… Empty. I guess the others thought I wanted to spend my time with Minho with him being on his off-day and thus Winston, Zart and Frypan all said they don't need any help. The rest of the afternoon went by with me following Newt around the Glade like a lost puppy – he was gathering the stocks from the Keepers and he seemed to be pretty much annoyed by my presence.

Not that I was enjoying that. I was bloody bored but refused to find Minho even when my heart told me so because what we were doing was ridiculous.

I didn't meet with him, not even at dinner. I sat with Newt and Alby, listening to even more boring managing stuff and kept my eyes on every newcomer.

There were times when Minho'd have a sandwich at the Map Room because a Runner found something but I had a feeling he was shunning me, on voluntary method.

"If you give me your cookie," I started in an absent-minded, pondering tone, looking at Newt's plate," will I give you mine in return or run away?… Should we try it?"

"You're tired and saying klunk. Go to bed," Newt responded, shaking his head with a forgiving and tired smile. Sadly enough, he was right – as if to buttress up his argument, a yawn escaped my mouth.

I told my goodbyes and headed to the showers.

In the first months after we've woken up in the middle of the Glade, having a shower was tricky, for me, at least. I'd have to ask Newt to stand guard at the door so none of the boys would wander there, following their hormones. Still, there was a few occasions where Newt wasn't available and some boys (on purpose or by an accident) walked in on me having a shower.

Since I've been with Minho, no one dared to come in by will and even if those who accidentally opened the door on me were chanting 'sorry' all over again so I wouldn't tell Minho. I never did, to be honest, but somehow they all thought I would… Or maybe they were simply scared of Minho. Runners were the best of all of us (the fastest, the smartest and the strongest) and the Keeper was the best Runner. Practically speaking: Minho was the best of the best and no one wanted to mess with him. I haven't decided yet whether I should laugh at this idea or feel excited that he was my love.

My love who has been absent all afternoon, my inner voice shrieked worriedly. I hushed it away and closed the door of the bathroom after me.

It wasn't much, really – some makeshift shelves on the wall to the right when you entered and four sinks lined up one by one on the left. At around half of the room was two curt bulkhead and behind them was two-two shower with plastic curtains. Vis-à-vis the door was a window which was rarely open – there was no heating in the room so if you didn't want to suffer from the contrast of goddamn hot water and chilling air you kept it shut.

I placed the freshly washed clothes I've brought with me on one of the shelves. Washing clothes was also the job of the Sloppers but they rarely did it since most of the boys were okay with one shower a week and thus they only changed once in every seven day. I honestly didn't understand how they bared their own sweaty, musky scent but whatever. I was lucky with those who I talked a lot – Frypan had to be hygienic since he was the cook, Newt was basically a maniac of cleanliness and Minho, well… Usually he was too tired to move after a long day of running but since I insisted he must go have a shower before even _thinking_ about coming to bed with me he obeyed. He was always growling, but he obeyed.

I turned on the water in one of the further cabins, testing the water-drops with my hand. It was cold at first but as soon as the water started to heat I moved to undress. Soon enough all my stinky clothes were in the middle of the mosaic tiled floor and I stood under the small waterfall of warm drops.

All of my anxiety and negative feelings flew away as the water rolled down on me and I sunk into the warm embrace happily and willingly.

I don't know how much time passed with me just standing under the showerhead and enjoying as the hot air surrounding my body but suddenly I heard the door open.

"Occupied," I exclaimed loudly enough so whoever strayed inside could hear it through the persistent buzz of the shower.

I expected to hear a mumbled 'sorry' and hurried footsteps then the closing of the door. Instead all I heard was the footsteps and some other sounds I found strange. Ruffling, tackling, zipping…

Before I had the chance to turn around the curtain was pulled back harshly and I found myself face to face with a pretty much annoyed Minho.

"Minho!" I shouted, surprised and happy and indignant at the same time. "What are ya-…"

Minho's lips crashed against mine roughly. I couldn't help but moan into the kiss as he grabbed my chin, forcing my face upward, and pushed his tongue inside my mouth. My knees went weak by this sudden brute force of his.

He departed from my lips with a smack sound, breathing heavy.

"I'm going to fuck you," he said with so much ease it surprised me more than his actions.

"What?!" My voice jumped at least an octave higher. The reason was equally surprise and excitement.

Minho grabbed my sides, massaging them as he spoke, looking straight into my eyes. "You know, (Y/N), when two people love each other, they have this thing called making love. And when one of the people grows tired of the other's klunk, then he simply fucks the other one until she can't shucking walk."

Minho rarely talked dirty during our heat-sessions. He said this and that occasionally, yes, but this was much more than what he had said in the past three weeks.

Maybe there was something seriously wrong with me because I felt myself getting wet by his simple words.

I gulped really hard when he stepped closer.

"You say _I_ was goin' all klunk on ya?" I asked. It was supposed to be aggrieved but my voice was as resentful as a kitten's meow.

"Are you shucking with me?!" He growled, obviously irritated. His grip on my sides tightened; it hurt. Not as much to make me stop him but hard enough to leave bruises next day and make my heart race like jack in my ribcage with excitement. "You were the one starting it in the morning!"

My mouth opened in awe. "Me? How so? I merely did else than kiss you once…" My voice trailed off as something lit up in Minho's eyes. It was wild and intense and somewhat even animalistic but at the same time quite full of emotions.

"You don't even_ know_ what even your bare scent does to me, do ya?"

I couldn't answer that – I've attempted to but no bloody word came from my mouth, only puffs of breath. The cause was equally the fact that there was simply no right answer for that question and also Minho. The shuck-face was standing right under the water drop-fall, his always-perfectly-made hair was bordering his handsome face, wet.

A few dear seconds passed with me staring up at him and visa-versa until he stepped closer, his half-erect cock pressing against my lower belly. I automatically took a step back. I wasn't afraid of him or anything but it was instinctual.

He followed me.

I stepped back.

It could've been a long game had the shower be larger.

Soon my back was pressed to the cold wall, sending a shiver down my entire body. Minho stepped out from under the showerhead, moving his gaze form one point to the other hungrily, like a predator.

"I'm shucking tired of teasing," was all he said before he attached his lips to mine in an eager kiss. I took it as a silent 'no foreplay' warning. Usually the part I most loved about having sex with Minho was the foreplay – all that cuddling and touching and stroking made me feel loved and precious. He treated me like I was fine china, ever so tender and gentle as if I'd broke from pressuring. But as soon as we got to the part _he_ enjoyed the most he let all his untamed desires loose.

In these times when he decided to don't give a shuck about foreplay for some reason, it was only thrusting and biting and grabbing and I still loved it. I'd have hated him for being able to do anything just bloody right but since I was the one he did those things… I guess I could turn a blind eye.

Just like I predicted, his hands soon went to prepare me, his palm massaging my entrance. Little jolts of electric lust awoke along my spine as he pressed his warm, muscled chest against my breasts and he moaned as my hardened nipples came in contact with his skin.

His mouth moved against mine in synch with his hands until he detached them to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw. My lips were red and swollen from his and tingled after the loss of that oh-so-good sucking and biting session of Minho's.

I felt his cock getting harder and harder by every passing second and the harder it became, the rougher and hastier his touches became. My heavy breaths soon turned into low, chanting moans of his name and my hand went to grab his wet hair when he bit down on my skin. I could feel his hot breath trailing down on me, a sweet opposite of the cold tiles pressing against my back and butt.

Minho quickly aided the later one – he grabbed my thighs and lifted me up, my legs curling around his waist immediately. He didn't even seem to try hard even though I wasn't as lanky as Newt. The thought of his goddamn strength made my crotch throb dully, in rhythm with the beat of his heart which I felt bloody clearly. Its speed increased noticeably when I trailed my fingers down along his spine and grabbed his ass.

He grumbled against my skin and lined himself up with my heated womanhood and sank in deep within me. Sharp pain numbed my body for a second – shuck, I thought he had made me wet enough so it would be smooth and easy!

"Bloody he- Minho!" I screamed in surprise and slight pain as he started to move right ahead, his length stretching and filling me again and again at an increasing pace.

Minho's eyes were closed in pure euphoria as my walls clenched around him. "Mmm, sweet, so tight…"

I doubt he was talking to me; his voice was low and he was almost mumbling so I guess he was just thinking aloud.

His eyes then snapped open, looking into mine through my half-closed eyelids. He may have seen there was some pain mixed in my pleasure because his gaze softened and he captured my lips in a passionate but loving kiss. All the pain melted away immediately and so did I in the warmth of his body.

My butt-cheeks spanked against the tiles with every thrust of his hips, this and the squelching sound of Minho's cock sliding in and out of me formed a strange melody with the still going shower.

Minho knew when I was in pain and he knew when all I felt was pleasure and lust and _oh yes yes yes_, throwing my head back against the wall, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. He didn't waste a second to increase his speed and the hardness of his moves, thrusting up into me by only pulling out half.

I've asked him once how it felt to be inside me – it wasn't fully possible to let that exact feeling known but he said he thinks it might be like when he sucks on my nipple: hot and wet and in-drawing only on a several inches long place. He said he could die like that happily.

Judging by his face, he really would've been happy to die right then and there, his eyes shut tight again, mouth agape, low growls escaping his lips coming from deep within his throat.

I felt a bliss overcome me as he rammed into me – really, though there wasn't so much I did aside from grabbing him here and there and kissing his face but I felt like I'm a bugging goddess to make him go over the moon, on cloud nine, on top of the world.

I didn't feel left out when he knitted his eyebrows together and came inside me with a moan of my name.

I helped him ride out his orgasm with small pecks all over his face, my hands brushing his hair. Usually when he came I would still be in ecstasy from my own orgasm and the white cloak of pleasure wouldn't allow me to truly admire how Minho looked when he reached his high.

Now I had the chance and he looked shucking hot.

After I felt his warm fluids explode in me, sending a hot feeling up my body like when I drank Gally's moonshine and felt alcohol spread in my veins, he thrusted a few times, slow, sloppy thrusts before he completely stopped with a satisfied and tired sigh. He didn't put me down, though, for which I was grateful – my legs were sore and felt like jelly so I doubted I would've been able to stand.

Instead, after a few minutes of standing there, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his arms wrapped around me in a protective manner, he placed a loving kiss on m forehead and carried me under the water which was still going. _What a waste of resources_, I thought bitterly.

He carefully let me down, his arms never leaving my waist which was good – without them, I'd have collapsed. The hot water did the job and chased away the numbness from my limbs. Minho bathed me without a word, rubbing and stroking the soap into my skin and then brushing it off with water. Afterwards he lead me to the sinks and dried me off with that fluffy towel of mine.

"Sorry," he said finally and brought his hand to my cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. "I got carried away."

We were naked as shuck as we stood facing each other but one round was enough for now.

I took his hand in mine and kissed the edge of his palm. "You don't need to be sorry."

"Thank God, because I wasn't going to repeat it."

I rolled my eyes and laughed but controlled myself and forced a serious look on my face. "Careful now, Min. If you continue saying things like that I might decide to leave you."

Minho gave a strange half-snort, half-laugh sound and placed both of his hands on my hips, stroking the skin. "I don't want that. I mean, it's good to find the person you wanna provoke and drive nuts for the rest of your life."

"Ooooh, you're so romantic," I cooed mockingly.

He smirked smugly, raised an eyebrow and said in a confident voice, "I know, right?"

Do you ever wonder how come some people just never miscarry? They start off into a direction blind and wherever they find themselves, they call that their aim. Minho was one of these guys – in conversations, I mean. I simply couldn't say anything he wouldn't have a comeback to but it was fine.

I shook my head, laughing, and the next minute he was kissing me again. His lips were rough and they grazed mine – somehow I liked it. It was… Manly, or something. This kiss was nothing like the ones he gave me when he finally got it on with me. This was sweet and slow and loving, not really a battle of tongues but the dance of lips. I loved it.

At least until the door flew open, the intruder stepping inside before finally looking up, analyzing the situation ahead him.

Newt's face first went ghost-white, then red and then somewhat green. "BLOODY HELL," he exclaimed loud enough for the whole Glade to hear. He about-faced and thundered outside, shutting the door behind him. Still, we heard from the outside: "And I was to give you my cookie!"

Minho started laughing so hard he accidentally head-butted the sink.

We've spent the night at the Med-Jack's.


End file.
